


Let's Play Doctors

by almaasi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Dean, Canon Universe, Costume Kink, Doctor Castiel, Doctor Sexy M.D. (Supernatural), Doctor/Patient, Dorks in Love, Fluff, For Science!, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Medical Kink, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Hunt, Romance, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, Top Castiel, but readers told me that was misleading as to the contents, clarifications in author's notes, it's about Dean and Cas rather than medical stuff, no pregnancy or object insertion is involved, skip to chapter 2 for smut, this fic was previously titled "An Ultrasound Idea", updated according to popular demand via a poll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-07 05:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18614557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: After finishing up a case, Dean asks Cas to keep his Dr. Sexy coat on, and they sneak back into an empty medical ward. A friendly scan of Dean's beating heart turns into something more exciting, as the scanner slips lower... Castiel is more than happy to go along with the doctor/patient roleplay, assisting with Dean's experiments – even once they turn sexual....You know....For science.“Do you think this machine could see me having sex?”“Could see— I’m sorry, what?” Castiel tilted his head.Dean scrunched a hand on his stomach, eyes down so he didn’t have to look at his best friend. “If I was havin’ sex right now. Would it be able to see what’s inside me? L-l-like my fingers, or. Or a dick. You know.”“I don’t know,” Castiel said truthfully.Dean shuddered, lips parting, legs parting. “Only one way to find out...?"





	1. The Lead-Up

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Unprotected sex.
> 
>  **Clarification on the use of an ultrasound machine** : No pregnancy, no mpreg, no insertion of any object that isn't fingers or Cas' dick. The scanner used is the chunky kind, pressed against Dean's taint/perineum for the purpose of watching finger & penis penetration on the nearby computer screen.
> 
> Dean and Cas are aware of each other's feelings but are both using this "for science!" pretence to make a move. **Whether or not it's established relationship is up to you.** Potentially their interactions make more sense if you imagine it is.
> 
> This fic has been updated a week after original posting to change the title, tags, and summary, and add notes here, because apparently a lot of people associate ultrasounds with things I didn't fully anticipate. I've changed a few tenses here and there so it's easier to imagine it as established relationship, and I've done nothing else besides splitting it into two chapters so subscribers get an update. The lead-up to the smut is now easily skippable (Cas uses the scanner for legitimate medical purposes on an elderly man, apparently that's a turn-off). Hopefully this looks more palatable now? :D Let me know.
> 
> Beta'd by [Mittens](https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/), [Jen](https://jenandtonic525.tumblr.com), and [Katie](https://crab-full-of-rocks.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> Also, just for your reference, [here's a **NSFW** video of sex seen through an ultrasound scan](http://bit.ly/ultrasoundsex). I have no idea why it's still available on YouTube, but it probably won't be forever.

“There you are, Mrs. Hosmer. Good as new.” Castiel lifted his glowing hand from Mrs. Hosmer’s wrinkled leg, and she bent it and straightened it in her hospital bed, astonished.

“Do you know,” she said, with her old and croaky voice, “I think it works better than it did before that nasty ghost broke it.”

“I dare say it does, ma’am,” Dean said, patting Castiel’s professional white coat, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Just what happens when you got the best doctor in the state. You stay outta trouble, now, Mrs. Hosmer, alright?”

“Will do, Mr. Winchester,” Mrs. Hosmer said fondly.

Dean gave her a wink, then tugged on Castiel’s arm. “Better be on _our_ way too, Doctor?”

“Of course,” Castiel said, eyes flicking to the attending nurse, who still looked rattled, as many people would be after seeing a haunted pill box floating across the room, only to spit out one very angry, but very slow-moving ghost.

“Thank you for everything you did,” the nurse said softly, beaded dreadlocks tapping together as she looked from Dean, to Castiel, then to Mrs. Hosmer. “Goodness, we’ve had a _day_ , haven’t we? Let’s get you out of the medical wing and to _bed_ , Mrs. Hosmer.”

“Oh, yes, yes, it’s way past my bedtime,” Mrs. Hosmer agreed, letting the nurse help her to her feet, toes in her slippers, and began hobbling slowly, only to realise she could walk. “Oh! Oh-ho!” She turned with tears in her eyes and stared in awe at Castiel. “Dr. Castiel, your friend was right! You really are the best doctor in the state.”

“I’d even say the world,” Dean uttered proudly, hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels.

Castiel looked flustered, but pleased. “To bed with you, Mrs. Hosmer.”

Off they went, Mrs. Hosmer hand-in-hand with her nurse. Dean grinned, hearing the old lady chattering as cheerfully as a child as they went off down the corridor.

“Okay, what’s next?” Dean murmured, turning off the light and shutting the door.

“DOCTOR! You rotter!” came a rough shout from the next room.

“ _That’s_ next,” Castiel sighed with a smile, approaching the open door. “I was _won_ dering where you got to, Mr. Nix.”

“I’ve been waiting for a scan, _took_ you long enough,” Mr. Nix said crossly, arms folded. He lay in the dim room, with his legs out on the padded table, glaring towards the door, where Dean entered cautiously behind Castiel. “Still got a bullet in my leg, young man. What do you intend to do about it?”

“It’s not a bullet, sir,” Castiel said, going around the examination table and pulling fresh purple gloves from a dispenser on the wall, putting them on. “It is in fact a bruise. From a flying vitamin pill.”

“Hit me like a bullet.”

“That it did, it’s true,” Castiel agreed, starting up the ultrasound machine, reaching for some lubricant in a translucent squeezy bottle with a pointy nozzle. Dean hovered by the door, watching Castiel work, wondering why he needed the machine if he could just mojo it all better.

Castiel set the handheld part of the scanner to Mr. Nix’s bare, hairy thigh, dragging the sensor over and around, smearing the lubricant but keeping his eyes on the blocky TV screen, where flashes of grey and lines of numbers appeared and vanished.

“There,” Castiel said, angling the TV towards Mr. Nix. “Do you believe me now? No bullet.”

“You’re looking at it wrong,” Mr. Nix grumbled. “What kind of doctor are you, anyway?”

“A good one,” Castiel said with confidence, and even Dean believed him. “Do you see this?” He pointed to the part of the screen where the cone-shaped section of static formed into a shape of some kind. “That’s your I.T. band, the tendon that runs down your entire thigh. This is where you were hit, no? It’s a very painful place to be hit.”

“Well, it must be somewhere else, if there’s no bullet.”

“Would you like me to scan your whole leg, just to check?” Castiel asked. He said it so gently, and so patiently, that Dean smiled in the dark shadows of the room. Cas would probably stay past midnight just to make sure this grumpy old man was satisfied that a ghost hadn’t shot him.

“Mr. Nix!” Dean startled as the nurse burst into the room, hands on the door frame. “I already put you in bed, how did you get out?”

“I crossed _Vietnam_ with a bullet in my leg once, Miss Amal, you think the distance between the lounge and the medical ward is too much for me?!” Mr. Nix sat up, apparently surrendering to the fact he was about to be told to leave. “What’s one more bullet, eh?” He pushed away the nurse’s assisting arm, and stormed towards the door, arms working like he was power-walking, legs shuffling like his slippers were stuck to the linoleum.

The nurse panted by the door, wiping her forehead in exhaustion. She smiled to Dean apologetically, then gave Castiel a thankful smile. “You know your way out, don’t you? I’m sorry, I have to get home to my kids— And this – ghost – screwed up everything—”

“Don’t you worry, Nurse Amal,” Castiel said, putting away the powered-down ultrasound scanner, cleaned and slotted into a socket. “We can take it from here. Hand your patients over to the night staff and go home.”

“We’ll lock up the medical ward when we leave,” Dean smiled. “You did good today, lady. Real good.”

Amal smiled, then faded into the gloom of the corridor, chasing after Mr. Nix and calling as he took the wrong turning.

Dean grinned, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked over at Castiel. “You ready to go?”

Castiel washed his hands, nodding. He knew the right way to do it, exactly as the picture stuck to the wall showed. Funny, Dean thought – if Cas wasn’t a hunter and an angel and the guy who yanked Dean outta Hell that one time, he probably would’ve made a pretty decent doctor. He suited the white collared coat, the stethoscope, the necktie and the sensible shoes. He had a doctor’s face, and a doctor’s handwriting, and a doctor’s kindness. Dean’s kinda guy.

With a fond smile, Dean held the door open for Castiel, and followed him through on the way out. Door shut, they paced the corridor, footsteps echoing. The only lights were machinery standby lights – green, teal, red, yellow – and an eerie, yet comforting glow from the shaded strips along the top rim of the ceiling. The gloss on the linoleum looked wobbly, the shine twisting and merging like pools of oil as Dean walked along.

They made it to the fire door exit. Beyond the doors there was a cloakroom, where all the lights were off, but enough moonlight eased through the window that Dean and Castiel could see the final door.

While Dean set the alarm according to the instructions written on a Post-It above, Castiel took off his white coat, replacing it on the hook he’d stolen it from.

“Keep it,” Dean said softly.

Castiel looked at him, blue eyes in blue light.

“Keep it,” Dean said again, more encouraging this time. He shrugged. “Never know when we’ll need to play doctors and nurses again, right?” He gave a disarming grin, glad Castiel didn’t roll his eyes, so probably didn’t suspect anything of Dean.

“I suppose,” Castiel said, folding the coat over his arm. He put on his trenchcoat, transferring the white coat to the other arm. “I should pay for it, though.”

He tucked a five-dollar bill between two coat hooks.

“Yeah, that oughta cover it,” Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he guided Castiel outside and into the night.

The Impala was parked on the other side of a road, and they crossed said road, which was empty and blue and stretched long in both directions. Crisp leaves swept in eddies around their boots, a slight chill touching Dean’s right cheek. He rummaged in his pocket for the keys, and opened the car.

He sat, and remained sitting as Castiel sat beside him.

Dean didn’t move. He was thinking.

No, not thinking. Wondering. Fidgeting. _Craving_.

He couldn’t pass up this chance, could he?

Well, he could, but he didn’t want to.

He wet his lips, and let go of the keys, leaving them swinging from the ignition. “I kinda wanna go back in.”

“What?” Castiel had just folded the white coat.

Dean eyed the coat, then the aged-care facility on the other side of the road, past a chain-link fence and a few rose bushes. All the lights were off, now. The yellow eyes of Amal’s car were just peering into the night; Dean heard the faint _vroom_ as she drove out from the main entrance, and red eyes grew small and blinked closed as she left.

“Let’s go back in,” Dean said again, fully resolved now. He got back out of the car, and leaned his torso in to instruct Castiel: “Wear the coat.”

   
· · · ❖ · · ·  
 


	2. The Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Dear subscribers: Fic has been updated with the smut moved to a second chapter as I've made changes to the title, summary, tags, and a handful of words in this fic. Just want more of you to enjoy this, and the previous info was misleading~)

“Dean, I don’t understand— Why are we—?” Castiel scurried by Dean’s side down the glossy-floored hallway, catching up, then falling behind as he looked around nervously. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?”

Dean paused by the ultrasound room’s door, hand on the handle, looking both ways down the darkened passageway. Nobody about. No noise except the distant hum of a freezer.

Turning the handle in silence, Dean entered. The machines were off and the room was as pitch-black as they’d left it, but sensors noticed their presence, and flickered on the pilot lights. Within a second the small boxy space had a pleasant sage-green glow, yellow lights softly reflecting against the walls from waist-height.

“Dean,” Castiel insisted, a little annoyed now.

“Nobody’s here,” Dean said quietly, taking stock of the space: leather examination table, laying flat; ultrasound machine and lube on the far side of the room, ready for use; paper towels and nitrile gloves in dispensers on the wall. Dean felt giddy. This was definitely his idea of a playroom.

He sucked his lower lip, blushing a little. He turned to Castiel, who was irritated and confused; Dean crept past, closing the door quietly. He eyed the handle, then pinched the lock between two fingers and rotated it until it clicked. Now nobody could disturb them.

“Dean, what are we _doing_?” Castiel demanded, a low growl in his throat now. He’d seen Dean lock the door, and he was perplexed by it.

Dean rolled a shoulder, warm breath shuddering over his tongue. There was excitement in his belly and anxiety in his chest, but he opted to pay attention to his belly, as he often did. “I said we might wanna play doctors. And you’ve got the Dr. Sexy coat. We’ve got the place to ourselves. So let’s... play.”

Castiel squinted.

Dean chuckled, head down. “Just curious, Cas, I wanna see what it’s like. I never had one of these scans before.”

Castiel sighed behind Dean, no doubt flicking his eyes to the ceiling. “Do you have a phantom wound you’d like me to examine?”

“Not exactly?” Dean stood by the table and shucked off his leather jacket, then his plaid, laying both over the back of a nearby chair before he kicked his shoes to the floor, then sat down and swung his legs up onto the padded table.

“At least take a pillow,” Castiel uttered, fetching a white pillow, placing it under Dean’s neck when he lifted his head, then covering it with a stretch of rough paper from a roll on the wall.

Dean lay down, happy. He put his hands on his stomach and watched Castiel walk around the table, going to perch on the stool by the ultrasound scanner.

“So, Doc,” Dean said. “Why did you wanna see me today?”

“I didn’t—?”

“Play along, Cas,” Dean complained.

Castiel sighed, eyes flashing to the side, then lowering as he smiled. “I called you in, Dean, because you have... hm, a heart condition.”

“Aw.”

“Nothing life-threatening,” Castiel decided, already getting the hang of this. Maybe it was fun for him to go method on this whole shebang, just like it was for Dean. But it wasn’t fun if it was deadly, at least Dean didn’t think so. “I’d just like to... take a look at your heartbeat, if you wouldn’t mind. Just, um, check there’s nothing untoward blocking the blood flow.”

Dean nibbled his lower lip, smiling. “Hm...”

“You’ll have to remove your shirt,” Castiel warned.

“That’s fine,” Dean said, sitting up and tossing off his t-shirt, bundling it and hurling it in a ball to the same chair back he’d hung his jackets. “Ooh, it’s chilly in here, huh.” He lay down, hands covering his nipples. “Gettin’ a little pointy.”

Castiel chuckled, eyes on the machine as he configured it. “Don’t worry about it.”

Dean wet his lips, thumbing his nipples a bit, then letting his hands slide down to beside his waist, feeling pleasurably exposed to the air, and to Castiel. He liked this kind of vulnerability, where the situation ought to be uncomfortable but somehow wasn’t, just because he trusted the person he was with.

He gazed at Castiel, admiring his stubble, his straight nose, the way he subtly sucked his lower lip as he thought to himself, and reached to pick up the ultrasound scanner in his right hand.

“So,” Dean said, adjusting himself on the examination table, bumping up his hips, bending his legs, feeling his spine relax. “How’d you know how to do all this, anyway? Run this machine.”

“I’m... a trained medical professional,” Castiel said, uncertainly.

“No, really,” Dean said, angling his right knee down to nudge Castiel’s lower back. “In real life. How’d you know what to do? I watched a-hundred-and-thirty episodes of _Dr. Sexy_ and I never would’ve guessed what buttons to press.”

Castiel shrugged, reaching for the lubricant, squirting a fat blue line onto the C-shaped sensor of the scanner. “I read a lot of books on childbirth when Kelly was pregnant with Jack,” he said. “And I attended a scan with her at a Planned Parenthood clinic. I learn quickly.”

“Huh.”

“Are you ready?” Castiel asked, holding the scanner like an overlarge pen. “This might be a little cold.”

Dean nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Castiel lowered the scanner to the middle of Dean’s chest. Dean gasped, smiling, immediately feeling unexpected delight. Yeah, it was cold, but it was also smooth and squishy and round, and Castiel didn’t apply any pressure at all, and Dean could feel the heat of Cas’ wrist on his right nipple. That nipple grew harder, despite the warmth.

“If you see the screen from there,” Castiel said, pointing to the blackness, “all this black-and-white static chaos is the machine trying to make sense of what it can ‘see’ inside your chest. It sees by listening, in fact. It sends out waves of sound, and when it hits something more solid, dense, it bounces back, giving us a visible image.”

“Like... a whale?”

“Much like a whale might find its way around the ocean, yes,” Castiel said. “Or a bat flies in the dark. So that’s your sternum,” he went on, pointing to a white mass in the image, which quickly shifted away as he moved the scanner. “But I’m looking for your heart.”

“It’s in there somewhere,” Dean joked. “Fingers crossed.”

Castiel smiled, looking down at Dean for a bit. “You do have one, Dean. I can promise you that.”

Dean smirked back, feeling his heart beat a little harder. He knew it was there. And suddenly, so did Castiel.

“Aha,” Castiel said, spying movement on the screen. “Usually these machines don’t like movement, but... yes, if you stay very still, Dean... there. That’s your heart.”

Dean didn’t know what the hell he was looking at. It was all big grey pixel mess to him. “Uh. Cool.”

“Don’t you see it? Left ventricle. And there’s an artery, see?”

Dean wet his lips, then sucked his lower one, shrugging. “The only hearts I know are bloody and red.”

“You ought to eat fewer burgers,” Castiel said, tilting his head. “You have a layer of fatty tissue hanging around.”

“Tell that to my flat stomach,” Dean said, patting his belly. It jiggled a little. He pouted, as Castiel laughed. “I eat salad, alright. And don’t tell me I don’t get enough exercise, running around after elderly ghosts all day. They might walk slow but they teleport fast.”

Castiel shook his head, smiling. “Just be careful, that’s all. I don’t want you dying early of something preventable.”

Dean grunted. He appreciated the sentiment, even while offended. “Want me to grow old and cranky, like Mr. Nix?”

“That would be preferable, yes,” Castiel said, still admiring Dean’s heart.

Dean started to smile, eyes roaming the brown-shadowed ceiling as he thought. “Old people _are_ kind of awesome, huh. Real tough nuts.”

His smile drifted, and he sighed, looking back at Cas, whose outline glowed beautifully, edged by the white light from the screen. “Cas?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you think it would be... I don’t know, scary? To grow old, and think you’re fine, and suddenly...? Something goes wrong, your family can’t or _won’t_ care for you, and you end up here. It’s not a hospital, but it’s... it’s not home, either, is it? All alone.”

Castiel paused, lifting the scanner from Dean’s chest. Dean felt weightless all of a sudden without that touch, and he didn’t like it.

Their eyes met.

“Better to be in a place like this,” Castiel said, “than somewhere without people who care.”

“But—”

“But I’ll be with you, Dean,” Castiel said softly, not meeting Dean’s eyes. “I know you’re talking about the other people here, but you’re not the same. If you do survive to be that age, don’t ever think you’ll be alone.”

Now Castiel met Dean’s gaze, intense and loving and determined. He didn’t smile but there was joy in his eyes, promises. “I’m not leaving you, Dean. Not ever.”

Dean wished his heart didn’t tremble at that, but it did. He had to look away, lest Castiel see the shine of gratitude in his eyes.

Dean gulped, then managed a smile. His whole body was tingling.

“Now,” Castiel said crisply, clearing his throat, drawing Dean back into whatever game they were playing. “Your heart does seem fine, and while I can’t give you a clean bill of health, I would say there’s nothing immediate to worry about. So... is that all, Mr. Winchester, or did you need—”

“I-I-I want,” Dean breathed, healthy heart fluttering. Heat flooded his cheeks as he grinned, rolling a shoulder. “Just curious, you know? Do you think...?”

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think this machine could see me having sex?”

“Could see— I’m sorry, what?” Castiel tilted his head.

“Sex. If.” Dean sucked his lip, prickling hot all over now. He scrunched a hand on his stomach, eyes down to watch it so he didn’t have to look at his best friend. “If I was havin’ sex right now. Would it be able to see what’s happening inside me?”

“Ah...” Castiel processed the question, then replied, tentatively, “It sees soft tissue, not hormone responses, so it wouldn’t see anything, not unless there was a... a physical obstruction in your blood flow. It could determine where the blockage is. Granted, the harder the tissue, the easier it sees it, yes... But even if you had an erection, Dean, the machine wouldn’t show... um, where you’re putting it. I’d have to scan your partner.”

Dean was fully blushing now, hands in sweaty fists. He squeezed his thighs together, trying to control his breaths. “No, I mean... I mean.” He gulped. “If there was – something inside _me_. L-l-like my fingers, or. Or a dick. You know.”

“Oh.” Castiel’s mouth rounded around his surprise. “Oh, I see.”

“Could you scan me, see what’s happening inside?”

Castiel fretted in place, head turned away, breath exhaled; his hand clenched and unclenched over his lap. “Ah. I suppose, if I found a good viewing angle where your pelvis wasn’t in the way... yes. In theory.”

Dean licked his lips. “And in practice?”

Castiel met his eyes, and they gazed for a little while, Dean’s heart pounding, probably visible in his neck.

“I don’t know,” Castiel said truthfully.

Dean shuddered, lips parting, legs parting. “Only one way to find out...?”

Castiel struggled to gulp, but managed it, nodding. Eyes lowering to his lap, then rising to the ceiling, he nodded. “Mm-hm.” He breathed out again, looking to Dean. “Is that – something you’d like to try now, Mr. Winchester?”

Dean nodded. “You?”

Castiel nodded, no hesitation.

Dean grinned, trying not to grin. “‘Kay.”

Castiel touched his own cheek with the back of his hand, embarrassed. “Um. How do you—? What are your preferences for—”

Dean sat up on his elbows. “Pass me, uh, one of those purple gloves, maybe. And some of the lube. I can use that, right?”

“Oh... Yes, I think so,” Castiel said, standing to get a glove, but forgetting the scanner was still attached to the machine by a curly cable – it leapt out of his hand with a _pska-blank!_ hitting the side of the examination table.

All a-fluster, Castiel handed Dean his glove, and then the bottle of lubricant, and then began fussing with the scanner, wiping it down with a paper towel, hunched in his seat, no doubt blushing in the shadows.

Dean lay back and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down to his knees, then kicking them off completely. His socks came off halfway, so he pinched them off with his toes too, and got comfortable on the table again, buzzing with anticipation, half-hard in his boxers.

“Are you not taking—?” Castiel glanced to Dean’s underwear.

“I’m keeping them on, dude,” Dean said, like it was obvious, because it was. “I mean,” he shrugged, “it’s just for science, Cas, it’s not like you n’ me are gonna go all the way, here.”

“Right! Right,” Castiel nodded, fumbling with the bottle to re-lubricate the now-clean scanner. “Of course.”

“You don’t need to see _everything_ ,” Dean grinned.

“No, no,” Castiel agreed. “Very sensible. Just this screen. That’s all I need to look at.”

“Uh-huh.” Dean shut his eyes and rubbed himself through his underwear, thumbing his cock upward, then letting it flop back down. It was growing weighty, and fattened as Dean gazed at Castiel, watching him adjusting settings on the machine.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Castiel said quietly.

Dean took a deep breath... then let it out. He offered the palm of his left hand, ready for lube, and once Castiel figured out what he was waiting for, he obliged: dense blue gloop made a spiral on Dean’s fingertips, and he let it warm for a moment, before slipping his hand into his boxers, stretching the waistband as he placed his fingers against his hole.

“Ooh,” Dean huffed. “Cold.” He grinned, biting his lip as he sank in, one finger, slipping in, slipping out. “Heh.”

Castiel stared at Dean’s crotch with uncommon fascination. His jaw was slightly slack, his eyes darker than Dean remembered. Well, that was natural, Dean decided. No scientific experiment would be done right unless Cas paid attention, so here he was, doing his duty and paying attention.

“Mmh,” Dean sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “Oh, yeah. That’s good.” Slippery, _warm_ , two fingers going deep. He shivered, and tensed, then purred as he relaxed.

“Do—” Castiel started, uncertain. “Do you do this often? Put your fingers inside yourself?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, smiling at his friend. “Don’t you?”

Castiel shook his head, looking into Dean’s eyes with exquisite curiosity.

Dean smiled, shrugging. “When the mood takes me, yeah.” He smiled around a sigh as he slid past a good spot, and his lower half quivered. He swallowed, hummed, then nodded. “Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, start scanning me, Cas, I got a good rhythm goin’.”

Castiel took a few seconds to look away. He wet his lips – Dean heard him lick them twice – then took the scanner in hand and placed it on Dean’s public hair.

Dean laughed, eyes rolling open, drifting straight to Cas. “Scratchy.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be if you’d shaved,” Castiel said, tipping his head and smiling.

“You see anything?” Dean asked. He lifted his head, looking down at himself. His boxers had a wet spot where his erection tented them. His wrist disappeared under the waistband, fingers pressing into the slick, comforting warmth of himself. Castiel’s hand and his scanner roamed the area below Dean’s navel, aimed towards his backside.

“Nothing,” Castiel said. “Just a great deal of noise. Lie down, your muscles are tensing and I can feel you shivering.”

Dean flopped down, eyes shutting. “Hmmmm.” He swirled his fingers, scissoring them a little, enjoying the stretch on his rim. Lightning tickled his inner thighs, shot right up to his core. “ _Oh_ , fuck yeah...”

“Hm,” Castiel hummed, responding to Dean. He jumped gently on his perch, legs adjusting his weight. The scanner slipped, but soon found its mark again.

“Anythin’ yet?” Dean asked.

“Your body is hotter than it was before,” Castiel said.

“Uh-huh,” Dean grinned. “Talk about a pick-up line, Cas.”

“What?”

Dean shook his head. “Never mind.” He squirmed, pushing deeper into himself. “Auhh...”

“Try not to move,” Castiel said. “The more you move the harder it is to see.”

“‘Kay,” Dean said. “Aaa... I wanna.” He reached past Castiel’s scanner-holding hand and stroked his erection, clothed cock bobbing into his palm, tight-hot pleasure throbbing from between his legs and easing outward.

Castiel looked away from the screen and watched the scanner stroking Dean for a while, nudging it closer and closer to the band of his boxers.

“Well, _hel_ -lo,” Dean said playfully, grinning at Cas when their hands bumped at the base of his cock. “Gettin’ a lil close, there, buddy.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just not close enough, I can’t see anything, look,” Castiel said, cocking his head towards the ultrasound viewscreen. “Big grey snowstorm.”

“Hey,” Dean shrugged, lying back down, “Never said you _couldn’t_ get closer. Just that you, you know, are.”

“So you don’t mind if I get this close?” Castiel nudged his knuckles right against Dean’s erection, close enough that Dean felt delicate bones through his boxers; Cas was touching the wet bit, and Dean felt pressure from his hand pushing his cock upward.

Dean swallowed. “That’s fine,” he whispered. “Get as close as you need to.” He let go of himself, laying his right hand on his stomach, focusing on his breathing. He kept his left hand still, crooking his fingers and straightening them against his rim, trying to distract himself from what Cas was doing.

Cas was so damn close to Dean’s erection. Knuckles rubbing it. Scanner drawing circles against the base.

Dean shivered and shut his eyes. “Uuaahaaaa...”

“Excuse me,” Castiel said, scanner pausing, switched to his other hand. “I need to...”

Dean watched him pry back his boxers and expose his cock, which thumped up to touch his abdomen, wet at the tip, thicker and harder than Dean had left it a moment ago. It pulsed by itself, and his legs twitched when the back of Castiel’s hand stroked his cock, scanner circling, swirling, going lower, almost touching his balls.

Dean’s breath was impossible to keep even. He let it tremble, and he let himself gasp; Cas would’ve heard how aroused he’d become, there was no use hiding it.

“Aauh—?” Dean moaned, pre-come spurting from him. Cas was scanning his balls, one glove-covered hand lifting them in his fingers. “Cas... Augh, _sssshhhit_ —”

“Tell me if you want to stop.”

Dean shook his head. “Oh, don’t. Don’t stop. Hmmm.” He parted his legs a little more, fingers slipping out of his hole. He was too distracted by Castiel’s touch to notice. “Yeah...”

“Dean,” Castiel said with a smile. “There’s nothing for me to look for if your fingers aren’t inside you.”

“What?” Dean lifted his head, dazed with pleasure. Cas’ fingertips were almost touching his anus; Dean’s fingers hung limp beside them. “Oh... Oh... right...” He slipped a finger back in, but paused there, wanting more. So much more.

So, he adjusted his position, lifted his legs – just to pull his boxers off completely, tossing them onto the chair – and lowered his thighs around Castiel, as Cas had just-now moved to sit at the end of the examination table, in exactly the right spot to see this: four of Dean’s fingers swallowed up inside him.

“Oh, my,” Castiel said, quietly astonished. “All at once.”

Dean moaned deeply, thrusting all four fingers. “Wanna. Ah— Fuck. Want.”

Castiel’s breath shivered. “Um. Okay. Okay, I’m going to— Let’s try this.” He started scanning again, the smooth sensor placed directly into Dean’s taint.

Okay, Dean loved that feeling. He moaned, and let Cas know.

Castiel’s breath had gone as ragged as Dean’s.

Soon, Castiel lifted himself entirely onto the table, kneeling before Dean’s open legs.

“Y-yeah,” Castiel finally said. “There. There, you see. Dean, look.”

Dean was half-blind by now, but blinked hard to focus, squinting at the screen. As he shifted his fingers, he saw a movement of white amongst the grey and black. It wasn’t much of anything, but it was what he’d been looking for. Four fingers thrusting carefully inside him.

Mission completed.

Right?

His lowered his eyes, not especially thrilled by the prize.

“Do we stop now?” Castiel asked. “Or...?

Dean looked at Castiel, those lust-dark eyes and plumped lips and shivering breaths. He looked at him, white coat handsome on his figure, and that lopsided tie, half-untucked shirt, his knees on the padded table, legs apart, kneeling... erection straining at his slacks.

“Unzip,” Dean said, as that was all he could think to say.

“What?”

“Whip it out, Cas,” Dean said, eyes on his new prize. “Lemme see.”

Castiel looked down at himself. “Oh.” His hand shook on the scanner, Dean felt it.

There was only a moment of hesitation before Castiel decided, yes, Dean really meant what he’d said, then Castiel set the scanner on the tabletop, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and parted them enough to fish out his erection. It was a struggle to pull free, as it had hardened towards his pocket. Finally it was revealed: thick and juicy and strong. Dean groaned in delight. Cas once compared his true form to the Chrysler Building, but his vessel’s form wasn’t far off.

Dean’s hands were busy – one inside him, one on his own cock – so he placed the bottom of his bare foot on Castiel’s cock and pushed.

Castiel cried out, eyes fluttering shut; he grabbed Dean’s foot with both gloved hands and pushed onto it, fucking it gently. “Ah— _Auh_ —”

Dean grinned. “Tickles.”

Castiel grinned back, dizzy-eyed. “Smooth.”

Dean pushed his foot against him again, and Castiel folded onto it, moaning deep in his chest, squirming to hump Dean’s now-slippery sole.

Upon considering his next move, Dean’s spine rushed up with pleasure, and he realised there was no other option but to make that very move. “The scanner would see your dick, right?” Dean asked, breathless. He grinned. “If you fucked me?”

Castiel looked like he was gonna pass out for a second. He started nodded. “In theory. It’s theoretical. We could prove— If you want—”

“For science,” Dean said.

“Yeah, for science, for science,” Castiel muttered, a desperate look on his face. “Auh, Dean, _Dean_ —” He turned away from Dean’s foot, instead putting his torso’s weight on his hands as he held Dean’s waist, humping several inches above him, uncertainly, like he wasn’t sure he was meant to. But he couldn’t help trying; Dean could see he could barely resist making contact.

Jostled by Castiel’s almost-frotting, Dean pulled his fingers out and let go of his cock, then decided to switch gears entirely, plucking the glove off his sweaty hand and tossing it to the floor.

Hands grabbed Castiel’s hair, yanking him down to muss it, making Cas _moan_. Their cocks touched, and Castiel began to rub for real.

“You wanna fuck me, Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel looked at him pleadingly. “Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, I do,” he whispered, his voice guttural and rough and determined to _do things_ to Dean’s senses. “I want to be inside you.”

Dean lifted his hips, groaning helplessly. “We gotta find out,” he nodded. “Find out if— If we can see. See it happen.”

Castiel nodded. “It’s of – great import.”

“Uh-huh.”

Castiel nudged his torso closer, holding Dean’s waist as Dean held his shoulders. Castiel looked down between them, shiny-lipped, eyelashes fluttering, white coat open over Dean’s spread knees.

“Do you think we need... protection?” Castiel asked.

Dean tutted dismissively. “With anyone else I would, sure. But what can’t you clean up with a blink?” he uttered, feeling the good kind of dirty from even saying it: he wanted Cas to go in raw and he wasn’t gonna be subtle about it.

Castiel seemed amused, laughing quietly as he hung his head. “Right now?”

“Just—” Dean watched Castiel handle his own cock with a smile. “Just push in.”

“For... science?”

“Hell yeah, Cas.”

Castiel met Dean’s eyes and held his gaze as – oh! – they both gasped, breaths ragged; Dean was filled in one slow push, and he groaned without noticing, eyes locked to Castiel’s. Castiel grinned wickedly, then shut his eyes to appreciate how it all felt, Dean wrapped around him, legs squeezing Cas’ waist, white coat tails folded under Dean’s knees.

“That’s one mighty tool ya got there, Cas,” Dean uttered, twirling a lock of hair at the nape of Castiel’s neck. “Feels awesome.”

“Yeah?” Castiel queried, finding Dean’s eyes, sparkling. “Do you like when I do this?” He humped, and Dean shouted, then went quiet in a series of gasps, controlling his breath between laughs.

Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

“This?” Castiel began to move properly, slowly, setting up a gentle rhythm wherein Dean’s hole stretched, relaxed; stretched, relaxed; his eyes rolled back in his head and he droned a long, extended low note into the silence, met by Castiel’s chuckled breaths and a purr of adoration.

“S’ good,” Dean muttered, in a begging tone of voice. “Oh, that’s good, that’s good, shit, love that, mh— Mh! Cas! Cas— Doctor! Doctor, _Doctor_ —”

Castiel laughed, forehead on Dean’s tipped-back chin. “As your doctor... do you want me to... take care of you?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah! Yeah.”

Castiel kissed his neck. “Alright. I will. I will, Dean, I promise. Shh.” He rocked into him, pushing, pushing. He took Dean’s knee and lowered it from his waist, and Dean followed suit with his other leg, lying with his bowed legs parted, Cas fucking between them.

Suddenly Cas was kissing Dean – lips, warm, wet, tender; soft noises cooed from Castiel’s throat; hands clutched in Dean’s hair.

Dean huffed in surprise, but kissed back, startled and aroused and confused. “Cas?” he murmured, kissing, and kissing.

“Mm, Deaaan,” Castiel groaned, holding Dean’s head and smooching his lips, his chin, nuzzling his cheek with the tip of his nose. “Dean.” He said his name with such reverence, it wasn’t fair.

Dean looked up into Castiel’s eyes, left, right, right, left, not sure what to do or say or feel.

Castiel realised kissing hadn’t been part of the plan, and he flinched, apologising, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break your immersion—”

“It’s okay,” Dean hurried, shaking his head quickly. “I just— I didn’t know what it meant, you know, it was just— Doesn’t matter. It’s fine, Cas. It’s fine. Forget about it.”

Castiel breathed in relief, but seemed equally unsure. “Do you want to continue with – the experiment?” he asked. “Your examination.”

Dean nodded, thrilled that he asked. He hadn’t been sure if things had changed and the game was over; he was glad it wasn’t. “I’m ready, Doctor.”

Castiel licked his already-wet lips, then picked up his scanner, and cleared his throat, paying attention to the science and not Dean. Dean lay still for a while, as Castiel stopped moving inside him.

Dean listened to their breaths, and held Castiel’s forearm in one hand, thumb stroking.

He was still thinking about their kiss. It was nice. Dean... liked it. He liked it a lot.

“Kiss me again?” Dean asked.

Castiel paused what he was doing to look at Dean, and he chuckled, nodding as he leaned down. They sealed the space between their lips, ever so softly.

Dean smiled, drawing a deep breath, releasing it against Castiel’s upper lip. “Hmmmmm.”

Castiel kissed a few more times, then let Dean go, returning to finding what he was looking for on the scanner.

Dean reached with both hands, wanting a hug. Castiel obliged, still trying to scan at the same time.

They kissed, and cuddled, but Castiel was distracted.

Dean murmured in discontent, so Castiel sat up, and began moving inside him again, eyes on the viewscreen.

He started to smile. “I see it. Look...”

Dean looked.

As Castiel moved inside Dean – push, push, push – just a bit; only half of him was inside – he circled the scanner on Dean’s taint, angled down to see the action shot.

As Castiel pushed in, Dean gasped – in pleasure, because he saw the shape of Castiel’s cock on the screen, a grey and white shimmering outline in amongst the black pixels. Dean could make out the thick rim of his cockhead and the curve of his length. It was only possible to see because of the movement and rhythm, seeing a familiar shape rocking back and forth, back and forth; otherwise it would all be a big incoherent blur.

“That’s you,” Castiel said, tapping the screen, at a big watery squelching nothingness that shifted around Castiel’s cock as he pushed, pushed, pushed. When Cas pulled back, Dean’s body filled the space Castiel no longer took up, then parted again under his push, push, push.

Dean was satisfied by that. “Hm,” he said in contentment, a lazy hand stretching up through his own hair.

“Isn’t that beautiful?” Castiel remarked, wonder in his voice. “I find it beautiful.”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean agreed, eyes set lovingly on Castiel. “It really is.”

“It’s so intimate,” Castiel said softly, airily, as if daydreaming.

“What, the machine looking at us?”

“No,” Castiel smiled at Dean, letting go of the scanner and sinking closer, arms against Dean’s torso, hands under his shoulders, necktie to Dean’s lubricated chest, cock sinking all the way deep, making Dean shudder. “You and me. Pressed together, our bodies interlocked, our physical forms enjoying each other like this. I can... smell you, Dean, I can taste you on my _tongue_ , I know the weight of you, I—” he frowned slightly, in perfect awe, “I feel your pulse around me, I feel your excitement and pleasure and your love, Dean, and it truly is incredible, don’t you think? I thought it would be exciting to _see_ it happen, and to know it’s happening, but I could never have imagined how good it is to _feel_ it. It’s so much more than emotional joy, but at the same time, it’s worth it for the emotion alone. I’ve never been so glad I can feel. Even pain.”

Dean was wooed by that, while not even sure if Castiel had _meant_ to woo him.

“Ahh—” Castiel set his head down and groaned, deep and low and gorgeous; his body shook under Dean’s hands as he sped his thrust; he took Dean’s thigh in his nitrile grip and lifted it, fucking down and deep and clapping his body to Dean’s, unapologetic, breathless, grunting against Dean’s throat as they rode against the leather table, sweating on the surface. One too-hard shift of their weight and the table vibrated an inch across the floor with an almighty metal grunt. Dean threw back his head and laughed aloud, while Castiel shivered, breathing in shimmers against Dean’s neck.

“Dean,” he whispered. “Oh, Dean...”

“Doctor,” Dean whispered back. He was gratified by the white collar under his hand, and the stethoscope metal lying cold on his ribs, but his second cry came out softer, sweeter, the name of his best friend, his guardian angel... “ _Cas_...”

Castiel kissed him, too much love in his contact.

Dean didn’t know the exact moment when this had turned from an experimental game to a genuine, truly consequential expression of their love, but this? Right now. This was the moment Dean realised it had already happened.

He stared at the ceiling as they made love, and smiled, afraid of what would happen next, but glad they’d come this far before he’d realised what was happening and had an opportunity to freak out.

But... maybe underneath it all... he’d known from the start...?

Yeah, he’d known. Obviously he had. They’d both known. Neither of them was dim enough to assume it was _all_ a game. Things could be done in the name of science but they still had a more personal intention.

Yet it was only now that Dean allowed himself to see the results for what they were.

He let himself enjoy it, and he smiled.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was pinched, squeaky then deep on two halves of the same syllable. “I think— Oh—”

“You gonna come?” Dean asked, eyebrows rising in excitement at the prospect. He was a big fan of orgasms, but a bigger fan of Cas, so the two combined sounded like a riot.

Castiel was nodding frantically. “I can feel—? S-Static. Pressure. Heat and _tension_ , Dean, oh my—”

“Go on,” Dean grinned, kissing Castiel’s sweaty forehead. “Analyse it later, just let it out.”

Castiel gasped, and gasped, and _roared_ , hands clutching Dean’s shoulders— He whimpered against him, biting his collarbone gently...

He sighed, and his weight was suddenly unbearable; Dean was squashed under him. He coughed, tapping Castiel’s shoulder urgently.

Rather sluggishly, Castiel slipped out of him, freeing Dean’s poor lungs, and leaving his empty anus clenching around nothing, twinging in complaint.

Dean chuckled, holding Castiel’s hand from behind, squeezing. “I can feel your spunk,” he uttered secretively to Castiel. “Warm ‘n wet? All spilled out when you pulled out.”

Castiel grinned bashfully, eyes cast away. “Do you want me to, uh, ‘mojo’ you clean?”

“Eh, leave it,” Dean suggested with a teasing shrug. “Part of the fun.” He sucked his lower lip, sparkling inside as he gazed with love at Castiel.

Castiel caressed the side of Dean’s face, letting go of a long breath through his nose. Dean didn’t know when Cas realised this wasn’t merely a game, or an experiment, but it was obvious in his eyes: he wasn’t even worried it might be. He looked at Dean with complete conviction, and Dean knew he meant what he’d said before: he was going to stick by his side forever.

Castiel nuzzled Dean’s cheek, hand slipping between his legs again.

“Oh, are we gonna—?” Dean asked, unsure. His eyebrows shot up as he realised where Cas was going. “Oh,” he said, pleased.

Castiel smiled, eyes shut, cheek on Dean’s shoulder as a single finger worked inside Dean, having no trouble at all in finding his prostate. Dean cried out, lower back arching, one hand holding Castiel’s, the other gripping the examination table’s padded edge.

He started to yelp, panting, grinning wildly, eyes shut tight, giggling almost; his legs tensed, heels on the leather. He opened his mouth wide and _gasped_ , drawing in loud and vocal breaths – and then fell back and keened, rushing with heat. He felt the hot splash on his stomach up to his throat, and Castiel gave a small “hm!” of surprise, flinching.

When Dean opened his eyes, totally spent, trembling all over, he turned his head to see Cas, and laughed quietly, seeing him trying to thumb semen off his cheek. It caught the lights around the room in a faint gloss, and once wiped away, left a smear.

Castiel settled to kiss Dean’s shoulder, and sighed against him. Dean felt his smile.

“You are,” Castiel said warmly, “the world’s _best_ patient.”

Dean rolled his eyes, smirking. “Mm. I’m on my best behaviour for my favourite doctor.”

“Oh-ho,” Castiel rumbled. “I’ve usurped Dr. Sexy, have I?”

Dean grinned, scrunching his hand into Castiel’s sex-mussed hair, feeling the cool dampness of sweat. “Cas, the second you put on a coat and called yourself ‘Doctor’, you beat six seasons, a TV movie, a hundred feel-good bedtime fantasies, and about ten hours’ worth of online-exclusive mini-sodes of _Dr. Sexy_.”

“ _Mini-sodes_ ,” Castiel repeated, in a judgemental sort of way.

“Shuddup.”

Castiel kissed Dean’s heart, smiling.

Dean drew a deep, invigorating breath, still stroking Castiel’s hair. “So, what’s the verdict?” he mumbled, blinking hard but keeping his eyes closed, trying not to fall asleep. “Was the experiment a success, Doctor?”

“Well, we did in fact use ultrasound to view sexual penetration, so, yes.”

“Theory confirmed.”

“Theory confirmed.”

They lay still for a while. A minute. Two minutes.

Breathing.

Resting.

Processing.

Appreciating.

Then Dean snorted. “You know the craziest part about this?”

Castiel lifted his head. “No, what?”

In an offended tone of voice, Dean remarked, “Not only did we just do whatever it was we did, but we made it so damn _nerdy_.”

Castiel sat up, rolling his shoulders in his half-slumped white coat as he grinned. “Didn’t seem that crazy to me.”

“Uh! Uh-huh. Sure. Sure, Cas, tell Sammy that.”

“Sam?” Castiel tilted his head. “Do you want to tell Sam?”

Dean sat bolt-upright. “That I made you dress up as a doctor and stick a pregnancy scanner in my taint? Uh, no. No thank you.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, getting to his feet and pulling his white coat on properly, flicking down the collar. “I mean that we’ve... um, consummated.”

“ _Consummated_ ,” Dean parroted, in a judgemental sort of way.

“Oh, shut up,” Castiel said, and Dean laughed.

They took turns at the sink, Castiel washing first – in the method illustrated on the poster, again, while penis-washing definitely happened by magic – then Dean came up close behind him, wiping himself with tissue, muttering that he was gonna be slippery in weird places for a week.

While Dean put his clothes back on – starting with his boxers and working outwards, Castiel zipped and buttoned up his slacks, then began cleaning whatever they’d touched, spraying disinfectant on paper towels and wiping _everything_.

“Still think you’d make a good _real_ doctor,” Dean mused, helping Cas clean the ultrasound machine, disinfecting the scanner part for a second time. “If we _do_ win against all the demons and evil-doers of the world, you might... y’know, wanna try being a doctor out. See how it fits.”

“Snugly,” Castiel said, handing Dean his leather jacket.

Dean smirked, putting on his jacket, popping the collar up. “Coat fits pretty good, too.”

Gripping the lapel of Castiel’s coat, he stepped up to him, bodies warm together, and they kissed as smoothly and sweetly as if they’d kissed a thousand times and knew exactly how they ought to do it. Dean held Castiel’s hair, stroking the same tufts over and over with his thumb, while Castiel held Dean’s waist under all his layers, pressing their hips together, holding him secure.

They turned their heads, sighing, content. Dean broke the kiss first, grinning too much to use his lips. He ducked his head, embarrassed and enlivened at the same time. “Can’t believe we did that,” he mumbled, wiping the corner of his lips with his thumb.

“I can,” Castiel whispered, stroking Dean’s jaw. “It’s been a long time coming, I suspect, given how long we’ve been— At least, how long _I’ve_ wanted—”

“Yeah, yeah, stick with ‘we’,” Dean muttered, eyes darting away as he smiled. “My life is a chick flick, blah blah blah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m sure you _did_ know, but I think this kind of intimacy could be very good for our relationship, moving forward. Not that I didn’t love you unconditionally before, but I do feel physically closer to you, now. We should do this again.”

“True,” Dean said, patting Castiel’s shoulder as he went past, heading for the door. “We should. It _was_ a pretty sound idea. You might even say—” he turned, and shot finger guns towards Castiel, “it was an _ultra_ sound idea.”

Castiel groaned, eyes on the ceiling.

Dean cackled.

“You know, Dean,” Castiel said tiredly, as Dean unlocked the door and followed Castiel out, “I may not have known about the concept of a _pun_ for very long,” they walked in step down the dark corridor, heading for the moonlight, “but I know for a fact that you’re meant to groan in despair when you hear one.”

“Only if someone else says it,” Dean said, one finger raised. “Otherwise you’re meant to grin and laugh at your own joke.”

“The problem is,” Castiel said, “I kind of liked it. Am I allowed to laugh?”

Dean snickered, throwing an arm around Castiel’s shoulder. “Yeah, Doc. You can laugh.”

“Okay.” There was a moment of silence as they walked. “I think the moment’s passed.”

Dean laughed now, head back. “God, Cas, you crack me right up.”

“That’s good. I do believe I made you _quake_ somewhat, back there.”

Dean snorted. “Earthquake puns? Seriously? You need to stop.”

“On what _grounds_?” Castiel said dangerously.

Dean laughed again, hand on his stomach. “Cas!”

Castiel’s grin widened. “I doubt this is some _Earth-shattering_ revelation, Dean, but I do believe you are _shaking_ with laughter.”

“Stop!” Dean gasped, hands on his stomach. “You’re not even funny! I’m juh— I’m just laughin’ cause we did it and I’m still all wobbl— Ahaha! _Wobbly_.”

Castiel smiled softly, taking Dean’s hand. “I’ll hold you up.”

Dean sobered slowly, straightening, grinning, gazing at Castiel with his heart ablaze with a fire that had burned for a long time, desperately stifled, but now seemed to breathe easily, blooming in reds and pinks and golds, taking over and bringing light to dark corners of Dean’s soul.

They shook and shivered, and then simply walked, finally reaching the fire doors.

They stepped into the cool cloakroom, into the moonlight, and then into the chill of the night, and Dean’s heat was never dampened.

He sat, body still tender, in the driver’s seat of his car, his soul howling red in a blue world. He looked to Castiel, and saw he was just the same.

Cas was right. By echo, by quake, and by flame, they knew each other, but, hand-in-hand now, smiles on their faces and hearts alight like torches, there was no comparing sound, touch, or sight, to the way it felt, deep inside.

Feelings like these would stand the test of time.

And Dean knew, when that time came, he would never be alone.

**{ the end }**

**Author's Note:**

>  **☞** [reblog summary](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/184643911955/lets-play-doctors)
> 
> If you liked this, you'd probably also like:  
> ♥ **[Sexier Than Doctor Sexy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153455)** , an 8.7k AU in which Dean enjoys his prostate exam with Cas a little too much.  
> ♥ **[Held in Your Tender Hands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5301230/chapters/12238421)** , a 59k AU in which Cas is Dean's masseur... and accidental cuddle therapist.  
> ♥ **[Manscaping](https://archiveofourown.org/works/985607)** , a 5.7k canon!verse fic where Cas cuts himself shaving his balls and Dean does first aid.  
> Or, frankly, [any of my other Destiel fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/works). c;
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this one~!! Thank you so much for reading, friend. ♥♥♥  
> Elmie x


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